Something Worth Living For
by BuRsT oF iRiDeScEnT
Summary: "I figured one thing about this world, just one. You find a cause and you serve it. I know what I'm supposed to do. And it isn't screw with Sam and Dean, or lose the only angel that had it out for me. I'm talking cause, douche bag, as in reason to get up in the morning." -Meg. Set when Meg dies. Slight Meg/Castiel.


_"I figured one thing about this world, just one. You find a cause and you serve it. I know what I'm supposed to do. And it isn't screw with Sam and Dean, or lose the only angel that had it out for me. I'm talking cause, douche bag, as in reason to get up in the morning." -Meg._

* * *

**1930-**

"Megan," a voice whispered raspily into her ear. "Wake up." Megan Prince rolled on her side, still wanted to be stuck in her subconscious mind. Her raven curls were a mess as usual, in frizzy tufts of tangles and shine.

The fifteen year olds eyes opened, flashing off their dark blue color. "What time is it?"

"Early," her father responded, handing her a jacket. "Get dressed. It's cold." Megan scoffed, placing the pillow on her face and curling into a ball underneath the wool, empery blanket. Beside Megan, her sister Elizabeth stirred. Megan had always been envious of her younger sister. Her black hair was in perfect spirals, and her brown eyes were always lively and curious. Her sister was intelligent using strong, big words, while Megan was persuasive. She never understood why the men always got everything. She was just as good as any man- possibly even better. She knew how to hunt, how to shoot a bow, how to fire a gun. Megan was plain. Whilst Elizabeth was clever and witty around the house. Megan knew how to collect herbs and plants that weren't poisonous and hunt wild animals. Elizabeth knew how to actually cook the food. Lizzy already had heap full's of suitor from her good looks and charm. Megan was not too pretty, not ugly. Just average. Her father always said that intelligence and her strong willingness would make up for the rest. Her life was plain. Average.

And Megan hated every minute of it.

"I want to sleep!" Megan complained, burying her face into the mattress.

"You always want to sleep," Elizabeth pointed out, yawning and stretching. She was a year younger than her, yet she defied Megan in every way that she knew how. "Why is that?"

"Why is _what_?"

"Why do you want to sleep so often?"

Megan shrugged, attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. "Nothing to wake up for."

Elizabeth rolled her pale brown eyes that resembled Autumn leaves. "There's plenty to wake up for. To clean, to cook. To get married off, to have kids."

"But I don't want to do any of those things," she snapped back. Why couldn't anyone understand her? Why couldn't her mother and sister accept what she wanted to do in life? It was her life, and Megan was planning on living it how she wanted it. Not anyone else. "I want to fight in a war. I want to be a fighter. Not some silly wife who is owned, controlled and demolished by her own husband."

Elizabeth scowled scornfully, as if she was being patronized. Which in depth perception- she was. Megan hadn't meant for her sentence to come out insulting, but when she retraced her words, she recognized how Elizabeth might take it the wrong way. Lizzy had always been the proper one, the one that did the housework and studied for school. Megan had always been the one with a bow in hand, a knife in the other, and a gun to the side. Her mother had despised Megan for being so strong willed, while her father took pride in it.

"That's my Meg," her father said proudly, mussing with her locks. Elizabeth scoffed, then turned back on her other side so her back was facing the two. Megan laughed gently from her nickname that her father had made for her, stretching her fingertips. He gave Lizzy a lingering glance before leaning in beside Megan's ear. "Mind your sister no attention. You're just different. And in my mind, better. You're a fighter, Meg. Don't ever forget that. You have to find a cause. Serve it. Listen to your commander, but don't ever let him or her change who you truly are."

Something was placed in her hands. It was hard on the end, and the tip was sharp. Megan's icy eyes lit up with excitement. "A new knife! Thank you father! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She squealed, which was out of character for her and practically leaped from her bed.

Elizabeth gave her father a look of adult conception that almost made him tremble. If there was one thing his two girls had in common, it was how intimidating their glares were. "Mother won't allow it. She doesn't enjoy it when you bother Megan of such trivialities of war."

He rolled his eyes, planting a kiss on top of her scarlet hair. "You are just like your mother. So strong willed."

She flashed him a charming grin, sliding out of the bed. "I know. But you best tell mother before I do."

"And just as irritable as your mother. But, you are right my dear. Better I tell her than Meg."

"Megan," she corrected. "Her name is Megan, not Meg."

"That's something you don't understand about your sister, Elizabeth." Her father chastised. "It's that she can be whoever she wants to be. Fighter's always win in the end."

But ultimately, that always wasn't the case.

* * *

**PRESENT TIME:**

Castiel sighed, leaning his head up against the window. He truly didn't understand why humans used the bus as transportation. There were so much more reliable and more convenient ways to get around. And besides that, it smelled horrible.

He wanted to aid Sam and Dean, but Meg's instructions were clear enough to follow. He didn't want to go against her orders, because he figured they had some sort of understanding after their pizza man talk and didn't want to ruin it again.

_"Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?"_

_"I don't know." _

He did know. He saw her life before she was condemned. He saw her hopes, her dreams, her family, her goodness, her purity. He saw her life. He saw how she made a deal with the crossroads demon to save her father. He saw how those hellhounds ripped her apart like a chew toy. He saw everything that she didn't block out. Every human memory that she had left, which was quite a lot considering that Demons normally forget everything during their first time in Hell.

She was a fighter, that was true.

Castiel hoped with everything that she was okay as he stared out at the storm that was brewing. He felt immensely bad for the pedestrians who were going to be stuck in the rain, but managed to shove the thought away. There were far more important matters to attend to- let alone be concerned about.

He was used to a lot of things, including teleportation, something that he did more often than he gave himself credit for. That's why he was riding the bus. His 'Angel Juice' as Dean called it was low and he didn't have the strength to travel again. So, yes, Castiel was used to a lot of things and that's why he didn't even blink when Meg herself appeared into the seat next to him.

"What's with the long face, Clarence?" She questions, her blonde hair straight and tangled free, surprising him altogether. His eyebrows furrow together as his body structure stiffens. Something isn't right. He could feel it in his gut.

"Meg? What are you doing here? No, how did you get here?" She's ignoring him, her attention averted to deciphering the foreign map that was clasped tightly in her hand. He had never seen it before in his life. Not on Earth, not in Hell and not in Heaven. "You're supposed to be with Sam and Dean."

She shrugged, her fingernail tracing down the paper, her nose crinkled in complete frustration. "I can't figure this out! There has to be something more convent than this!"

"Let me see it," he offers, wanting to take her confusion away. "I might recognize it." She shakes her head, signaling a no gesture. Her signature leather jacket still on but it's not dirty nor worn. It's fresh, like it had been recently bought. Less than that she was clean.

Not in the definition of clean that human's use, but the definition that Angels use.

Meg...she wasn't a demon. He studied her true form, and all that was there was her meat suit.

"You aren't a demon, Meg."

Only then does she look up at him. "Well, duh, idiot. What did you expect?"

"For you to be a demon..."

"Just forget about it, Clarence. For now." She quickly adds in and something in her expression makes Castiel's half ajar mouth close. It's pained, but also at peace. Like an Ocean that had finally calmed after a storm.

He sighed, but dropped the topic and goes onto the next one. "Are Sam and Dean okay?"

Meg rolled her eyes but gave him a curt nod. "Your pets are fine- thanks to me."

"Pets? Meg, I wish you would stop insulting them so often." She smiled reluctantly at his words, brushing her blonde hair back. He would never tell her this, but he missed her raven locks. For one, they were natural, and they reminded Castiel of a time where Meg was happy- back when she was human.

"I will never stop insulting the Winchester Boys, Clarence. It's part of our relationship and my witty charm."

His icy blue eyes looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then back to the blonde demon sitting in front of him. He was careful to avoid any questions that had any relevance to why she was here or how she had got here. "You know, Meg, you never did tell me why you called me that." She fumbled with her map, pretending to be attentive to it, but the corner of her lips quirked up.

"I guess I should put you out of your misery then. You really should live a little. Get out, watch a movie, read a book-"

Castiel smirked. "I do recall you telling me to do so. We were talking about the pizza man."

Heat rose to her cheeks, which confused him thoroughly. If there was one thing he knew about Meg, it was that she didn't get embarrassed. She was still the same old Meg, mean, clever, strong, a fighter. But she was more human and that evilness that lurked inside her that she fought every day to keep it down was gone. Disappeared completely.

"We were, weren't we?" She laughs, which Castiel had never seen her do. If she had laughed in the past- it was a maniacal cackle, or an insane giggle. "I call you Clarence because of _It's a Small World. _It's a movie and Clarence is the goody two shoes angel."

"Oh," Castiel says with a smile. It did make sense, and it wasn't an insulting name like he had expected. Or was it? "I don't know whether or not to be insulted or happy that you just complimented me."

"Well, that's the thing about me. I like to keep men guessing."

He laughed, but after watching her frustrated attempts on the map his smile faded. "Are you sure you don't need any help with that map?"

Meg shrugged absent mindedly, then turned to Castiel, her amusement gone. It was replaced with a bittersweet feeling that was practically radiating off of her. "Where do demons go when they die?"

Castiel was at a loss for words, as he tried to compose himself enough to answer he vague question. "That's one thing I don't know. I think Demons might go into nothingness. I think it might depend on how they are killed. Maybe the ones killed by the colt just cease to exist, but it's possible the ones killed by the knife might just go to some version of hell that is worse than the one they were in before."

He watches Meg's apple bob from gulping and her flushed cheeks pale a little. He hadn't meant to frighten her, but replaying his words he realized that he probably had.

"Or maybe not," he rationalized quickly. "I guess it depends on the demon's human life before. Why? Thinking of dying soon?"

Meg rolls her eyes at his childlike innocence and obliviousness as she folds the map completely out, but she doesn't respond back. "Meg... you aren't dying anytime soon. Dean, Sam and I will make sure that won't happen."

She mumbles something sarcastically underneath her breath, but he can't quite catch it even with his angel powers.

Something's...wrong. He can feel it. The way that Meg seems more powerful than he is, not as a criticism, but as a fact. She seems to know things that he doesn't. She's keeping things from him, and for the first time - he doesn't know what it is.

"You remember what I told Dean, Sam and you a long time ago?"

He nods. He vaguely remembers it, but it's enough to recall her words.

"That fact hasn't change. Never will."

"I know, Meg," he says. "You're a fighter."

Her eyes seem to glossed. "That's what my dad said to me a long, long, long time ago." Castiel's blue eyes widen in surprise. Demons barely can remember their previous lives, let alone words that family members or friends have spoken.

"And so are you. So is Sam. So is Dean. Maybe not to the awesomeness level that I hold, but you guys are still alive after all the shit that happened. Now, you are going to get your angel wings ready Unicorn, fly-swoop whatever angels do and kick some ass. Understand me?"

"I understand."

"Promise?"

"I promise." Meg nods in confirmation, turning back to her map.

"Why are you saying these things like they're a goodbye?"

She freezes, her face turning stony and suddenly he knows.

Meg is dead.

Meg. Is. Dead.

The words in his mind seem to shriek. Meg's eyes are swimming with pain, but relief. Like she wanted this to end a long time ago.

"A-are you, are you dead, Meg?"

She sits their emotionlessly, her eyes dark, but he can see the small assignation of a nod.

"Who did this to you?" He practically growls. He wants to know who killed Meg, who murdered Meg, so he can kill them too. Meg is his friend. Maybe something more, maybe something less. But she's a friend and he trusts her. And he doesn't let other friends get hurt. Castiel hopes it wasn't Dean or Sam, because he couldn't go through with killing them.

"It doesn't matter, anymore. Not that I don't want to go haunt that son of a bitch right now- I just want to end all of it, you know? No more regrets."

"No more regrets," he repeats.

"Ah," she says in a breath of a sigh, her finger planted on a place on the map. "I think I found my destination."

Castiel's heart sinks. He knows what's coming next.

"Don't go, Meg."

"I have to, Clarence. It's my duty." She then paused. "But maybe not just yet. I want to go to sleep. Rest, Clarence." She leaned up against him and he watched intently as her eyes closed, finally asleep.

He didn't usually sleep, but this time he did.

When he finally does wake up, she's gone.

* * *

**A/N: I just watched Meg die. *Starts bawling* No, but seriously. Must the producers kill of every female character on the show? Meg was one of my fav characters, and it's sad to see her go. I'm not quite on season 9 yet, but I'm getting there. This was my first Supernatural fanfic and I hope it was good enough! Reviews are greatly appreciated, as are followers, favorites, and just reads!**


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